Until The End
by GatnissShamyClato
Summary: Glarvel drabble; Glimmer's POV of the tribute parade. I have no idea what this is. R&R!


**A/N: This is just awful and I have no idea what I'm doing but if you review you'll make me so happy okay bye idk what this is**

* * *

_I can fly  
But I want his wings  
I can shine even in the darkness  
But I crave the light that he brings  
Revel in the songs that he sings_

* * *

It's short. I'm used to short, but this is extreme. Net, lace and silk everywhere – it feels like every centimeter of my flesh is on show even though, naturally I know that's absurd.

I wear revealing dresses all the time back in District 1 but, for some reason that I can't describe, this feels… wrong. Maybe because it's just that bit _too_ extreme – the split thigh goes just too far up my leg, the neckline is low enough that practically my entire cleavage is leaking out. Or maybe it's just because when I wore stupid, slutty dresses it was my choice, I was doing it to get attention. This time I've been forced into this minimal garment against my will. And, at this point in time, attention is the last thing I want.

I tried to get it changed, trust me. I fought. I kicked and screamed and threatened to rip it up but in the end, when the peacekeepers and security have been called and I'm being pinned to a chair with tears dripping down my cheeks, what exactly can I do? I had to put it on, knowing full well that I'd be labelled 'easy' from Day 1.

Sometimes I wish we were in the arena already, that way I could actually do something that might help my situation. Instead, I am dressed up and painted like a doll, thrown onto a cart and driven through the crowds like a toy being shown off. I feel sick.

There are thousands of them. Thousands and thousands. I look into their faces as our chariot flies past, my dress fluttering behind me. I want to pull it further down but I know there are cameras on me so I stop myself.

The people I catch a glimpse of are… colourful. That's what I notice first, anyway. Every colour of the rainbow radiating off of their faces, their hair, their wild outfits. It's like we've entered the circus or something. Even though I always thought District 1 was colourful and exciting… it's nothing compared to this. Hats and capes, eyelashes that sparkle even from the distance I am from them. It's overwhelming.

I swallow and continue.

Glancing to my left, I see Marvel, my District partner. His face is a mask – unreadable. I'm guessing he's about as uncomfortable as me though, maybe a little less. After all, he isn't the one who was forced into a practically non-existent dress and shoved in front of a crowd of people. I let out a tiny whimper which is drowned out by the screaming of the audience and turn away. My heart is crumbing slightly as the days before the games become fewer and fewer. The days before… _at least_ one of us will die. It's inevitable. It will happen, soon enough. And when it does, he'll never know how much I I've been in love with him. For as long as I think can back. Longer, even.

He'll never know.

And in a way… that's okay. Because I know he thinks I'm as worthless and cheap as everyone else. He doesn't feel the same. He never would. I mean, look at me. Who could love this? Look at what I'm wearing. I may as well have a sign on me labelling me a slut. It's what everyone is thinking anyway.

I return my attention to the audience. Cheering, screaming, applauding. Betting on who they want to survive. I wish I could rip this dress from my body and turn and scream back at them. _Vote for Marvel. Save him. He has a family who love him. He would be a worthy winner._

Instead all I can do is watch and weep inside and pray that he makes it out alive.

I promise myself that if I end up as the victor… I won't dress myself like I want men all over me because I _don't_. I never have. I just wanted to be… I don't know, appreciated for once, maybe. Not that it matters. I won't be coming out of this alive.

I look down at my feet and get it together. It's too late to change people's opinion of me now. Much, much too late. When I snap my head back up I wave and smile, pinching the fabric of my dress at my waistline and tugging it further down so that even more of my bust is hanging out. Who cares? I look cheap and easy and disgusting but I look that way every day; I'm just not used to looking like it in front of so many people. Marvel looks over at me and shakes his head ever so slightly and I feel myself trembling. If I only I could explain to him. If only he knew that I'm not the girl he thinks I am. I am not fishing for admirers and compliments at this moment, I'm simply doing as I've been instructed. I'm taking the simple route. It's easier to just go along with what people think of me already, rather than trying to change their opinions. It would never work, anyway. If only he knew how I'd watched him in training every day, noticed every time he improved with his spear or missed a target, every time he skipped a day because he was sick or had a school exam. I'd smiled every time he got praise from a trainer and been devastated when he received the opposite. If only he knew what an impact he'd had on my life without even realising.

Before the games I'd thought… maybe later in life I would change and tell him how I feel and I dreamt that _someday_ he might even feel the same. It's time to let that go, now. There's no point in clinging to impossible fantasies, no matter how tempting.

After all, I'm just another girl from District 1. I'm worthless, I'm insane. I'm in love. But none of it matters. I am going to die.

No one will know the person behind the short dress, the lipstick and the hairspray; she's tucked away like a shadow in the dark. It's always been that way.

Marvel is still uptight and upset. He looks angry and wary all at once. As with every day of my existence, I long to reach up to his face a run the back of my hand across his cheek, smooth his hair down and tell him that we can make it through the games together. If only he'll accept me.

But I know he won't. No one ever would.  
My eyes flutter shut and my lips curve up into a tiny smile. I'd rather have loved Marvel for my whole life than be an actual slut, incapable of love as most think I am. It is like having a private relationship that nobody knows about. Emphasis on _nobody_, as not even my District partner himself has a clue. Secrets are never left untold, even after death. The truth will remain, as it always does.

And Marvel… well. He'll always remain my tiny, precious fraction of light, eternally glimmering. He will always be my cherished secret.

Until my heart stops beating.

* * *

_I can love  
But I need his heart  
I am strong even on my own  
But from him I never want to part  
He's been there since the very start_


End file.
